Cursed
by Erin T. Aardvark
Summary: The Impossibles contend with the curse of a carnival gypsy fortune teller. Rated T as a precaution
1. Carnival Capers

_AUTHOR'S NOTE: This started out as something posted on my Camp Monkee Mallard page, but I thought it would make an interesting idea for The Impossibles, so I retooled quite a bit of stuff here. As always, the Impossibles and Big D belong to Hanna-Barbera. Everyone else you encounter is mine.

* * *

_

Our story opens this time on the singing Impossibles playing a gig at a boardwalk carnival. Their mascot, Skittles, was sitting to the side of the Impossi-Stage, keeping time to the music by thumping her tail on the boardwalk. Once they were done with their set, the boys climbed off the bandstand and started to look around the carnival.

"This is one of those seedy things, isn't it?" Multi asked, clipping Skittles's leash to her collar.

"You're not kidding," Coiley said. "I've seen seedy carnivals before, but this one takes the cake. And I bet the midway games are nothing but shams."

"A good waste of time and money," Fluey said. "But not necessarily anything illegal. I don't think."

"Come on, let's go get something to eat," Coiley said. "I'm starving!"

The boys walked over to a concession stand for some burgers and fries. As they were chowing down, they heard a lot of screaming coming from down the boardwalk.

"Help! Police!" they heard a woman shouting. "Robbery!"

"So long, suckers!" a man wearing a black and white striped shirt, black pants, and black mask shouted, running down the boardwalk at top speed carrying a bag full of cash.

"Time to do the super bit again," Fluey said. And in a flash, the singing Impossibles converted into the superhero Impossibles, and Skittles barked three times, and performed a back flip, transforming into her identity as Impossi-Pup. Then the foursome took off running after the thief.

"Rally ho!" the boys called out.

The thief looked over his shoulder and groaned.

"Uh oh," he said. "Those impossible Impossibles! I'd better scram!"

"Stop, thief!" Coiley shouted. He stretched one of his arms out, and grabbed the thief by the back of his shirt collar. The thief managed to wriggle himself free, and he ducked into a nearby tent.

"I'll take care of this, fellas," Fluey said. "Rally ho-ho!"

Fluey converted into liquid and shot into the tent, socking the thief right in the nose and knocking him off his feet. At that moment a woman walked in, wearing what looked like a gypsy fortune teller costume, and she didn't look happy.

"Vhat ees the meanink of zis intrusion?!" she shouted.

"Sorry, lady," Fluey said. "I was chasing down a crook and he hid in here, so I followed him in and caught him."

"Vell, now that you caught heem, get out of my tent!" the gypsy shouted.

"Gotcha," Fluey said, and he dragged the hapless crook out of the fortune teller's tent.

The police arrived a few moments later to take the crook into custody, but the crook punched one of the officer's in the stomach as hard as he could and ran back toward the gypsy's tent. Fluey converted and charged after him, and managed to tackle him, but they both hit the gypsy's tent, knocking it to the ground.

"You again?!" the gypsy shouted.

"Sorry," Fluey said, shrugging. Coiley, Multi, Impossi-Pup, and the two cops ran over just then.

"What happened?" Multi asked.

"You okay, Fluey?" Coiley asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Fluey said, standing up, and pulling up the crook. "This guy's spirited, I'll give him that. Here you go officers."

"Thanks a lot, boys," one of the cops said.

"Come on, let's go," Coiley said. "We've got another set to go through."

"Right," Fluey said. "But first let me help clean up around here. After all, this mess is kind of my fault."

Fluey bent down and picked up a tin box from the ground. The gypsy yanked it out of his hands.

"Don't you dare!" she shouted. "I do not need your help! Leave here at once!"

"Kind of touchy, isn't she?" Fluey asked. Suddenly, Impossi-Pup sniffed the air, then turned to the gypsy and growled. She started barking, and then jumped onto the gypsy, knocking her off her feet, causing her tin to go flying. It landed on the ground, and the lid came off.

"Skittles!" Multi scolded. "You know better than that! Sorry about that, ma'am."

"Wait a sec, Multi," Fluey said, picking up the tin, and looking at it's contents. "Skits is onto something here. You know what's in here?"

"No, what?"

"Cocaine!"

"Cocaine?!" both Coiley and Multi shouted in unison. Several patrons had heard the boys and gathered around to see what was going on, and this included the two cops the boys had encountered earlier.

"Let me take a look at that tin, son," one of the cops said. Fluey gladly handed it over for him to inspect.

"Yep, it's coke all right," the cop said. Then the two cops began inspecting some other boxes and bottles the gypsy had laying around. Inside them, they found crack, marijuana, LSD, and heroin. They had also found nearly ten thousand dollars in cash.

"This definitely solves that drug trafficking case we've been working on," the cops said. Then he turned to the gypsy, but she had completely vanished.

"Hey, where'd she go?" Coiley asked.

"She probably split the scene when she realized we found her hash stash," Fluey said. Then he turned to the cops. "Do you want us to go after her, or . . . ."

"No, boys, you've done enough for one night," one of the officers said. "We'll comb the area for her. She couldn't have gone far."

"And besides which, we've got a gig to finish," Multi said, but loud enough for only Coiley, Fluey, and Skittles to hear him. The foursome walked off, did their quick change routine, and went back to the boardwalk to finish their concert.

However, the boys were unknowingly being watched, by that gypsy fortune teller they had exposed, and she was hopping mad. If it hadn't been for that dark haired upstart, the cops never would have found out she was trafficking illegal drugs. At least she knew what to look for to seek revenge. After all, she saw the boys change.

"It's your fault, you young fool," she said, and she pulled a vile out of her pocket. "I'll show you."

The gypsy then went to the other end of the boardwalk and waited, while the Impossibles played. They were supposed to do a couple of songs during a fireworks display, and it was already starting to get dark. The crowd loved it. Once the gig was over, the boys began packing up their stuff in order to hit the road.

"Grab that amp, would you, Fluey?" Multi asked.

"Sure," Fluey said. But just as he was about to pick up the amplifier, he was grabbed from behind. A hand covered his mouth to prevent him from calling for help, and he was dragged underneath the boardwalk. His assailant threw him onto the ground, and tied a piece of cloth over his eyes to blindfold him.

"Hey, what's going on here?!" he shouted. He was suddenly grabbed by his shirt collar, and pulled to his feet. Then, his attacker forced his mouth open, and poured the foulest substance Fluey had ever smelled and tasted down his throat. Then a hand was firmly clamped over his mouth to prevent him from spitting it out, and Fluey had no choice but to swallow it. The attacker let go of him, and took the blindfold off. But Fluey wouldn't have been able to get a good look at his attacker, even if he wanted to. Once he had swallowed whatever it was that was poured into his mouth, he began to feel dizzy, and everything was spinning. Without a word, Fluey collapsed to the ground, unconscious.


	2. Walk on the Wild Side

It didn't take too long before Fluey woke up. He got a whiff of something much worse than smelling salts. It was puppy breath. Skittles was sitting on his stomach, panting right into his face.

"Ooohhh!" he groaned. "Somebody has got to invent breath mints for dogs! They'd make a fortune!"

"Are you okay, Fluey?" Coiley asked. "What happened?"

"I don't know," Fluey said shrugging. "One minute, I was picking up the amp, and the next, somebody grabbed me, blindfolded me, and poured something down my throat . . . . . it was the nastiest stuff I've ever tasted!"

"Did you see who it was?" Multi asked.

"No, and they're probably long gone by now," Fluey said.

"Well, let's get going," Coiley said as he and Multi helped Fluey to his feet. "We'll call the chief and report the incident, though."

"Yeah, but there won't be much we can do about it," Fluey shrugged. "I didn't get a chance to see who grabbed me."

The boys climbed into the Impossi-Mobile, and were off. Fluey began to feel strange on the ride, however. He got this funny feeling in his stomach, but he couldn't really tell what it was, exactly. He figured it was the stuff that had been poured down his throat. Either that, or the greasy carnival food. The boys returned to Megatropolis, and went directly to the Secret Security Headquarters so the chief medical officer, Dr. Phelps, could look at him.

"You say something was poured down your throat?" Dr. Phelps asked, shining a light into one of Fluey's eyes.

"Yeah," Fluey said. "I figure something was in that stuff. It knocked me out cold, and now I feel sick to my stomach."

"Well, I don't know about that," Dr. Phelps said. "Everything checks out normal. I think your upset stomach may be attributed to the food at the carnival you were playing. Take some Alka-Seltzer when you get home and get some sleep."

"Okay, doc," Fluey said.

And that was all there was to it. Fluey went back out to the Impossi-Mobile, and Coiley dropped him off at his place. He figured Dr. Phelps was right, anyway. The burger he had at the carnival was extremely greasy, and a bit cold, and the fries were even greasier. He plopped two Alka-Seltzer tablets into a glass of water, drank it, and went to bed. Though he was having some trouble sleeping. He kept hearing howling outside. He was surprised his Aunt Tillie could sleep through it. She was out like a light. Fluey figured all the howling was a neighbor's dog, or something like that. He got up, opened his bedroom window, and looked around outside, trying to see if there was a dog or something like that outside. The clouds suddenly cleared up, which left Fluey in direct path of the full moon. That funny feeling in his stomach grew worse then. He felt incredibly strange. He groaned, grabbed his stomach, and fell to his knees. He tried to get up, but he couldn't. It was like someone wanted him to stay on his hands and knees. Then, Fluey's entire body went through some kind of metamorphosis. His arms and legs slowly became paws, and his face slowly morphed into a dog-like appearance. His ears grew larger, and pointed, and his eyes completely reshaped themselves, and turned yellow. Jet black fur covered his body. He let out a scream, but it sounded more like a howl. A wolf howl. But he hadn't turned into a werewolf. He had turned into a real wolf! And furthermore, Fluey didn't even realize what was going on in this form. He just jumped out the open window, and tore across the backyard, jumping over the hedge into the next yard. Since he still had his clothes on, he started ripping them apart with his teeth, growling as he did.

One of the neighbors (a teenage girl) woke up at the sound of some howling, stood up, and walked over towards her window. She looked, and saw a shadow of some kind running around the yard. She gave it a strange look, and then went over to the desk drawer, and pulled out a flashlight. She turned it on, and shined it on the shadow. Then she screamed and dropped the flashlight on the floor.

"MOTHER! DADDY!" she screamed. "THERE'S A WOLF IN THE BACKYARD!"

Of course, the yelling brought in her parents. Her father picked up the flashlight and shined it in the backyard.

"Good grief!" he shouted. "That's a wolf, all right!"

"Where did it come from?" the girl's mother asked.

"My guess the woods," her father said. "You know there's a wooded area around here. I have to say, I don't think I ever saw a wolf that was that black before."

"Well, what are we going to do?" the mother asked. "And what the heck is it doing?"

"Looks like it got on someone's clothesline," the father said. "I'll go call an animal control specialist."

The father went down the stairs and picked up the phone. The girl and her mother continued to watch the wolf. Once he was finished tearing off the clothes, he jumped over the fence and took off. The father returned moments later.

"He just took off," the mother said. "I don't think we'll find him now."

"Well, you two better get back to bed," the father said. "I'll tell the animal control people he ran off right after I called them when they get here."

"Okay," the girl said, and closed the window.

At that time, Fluey was wandering around Megatropolis, scouting the city in wolf form. Nobody else was around to see him. He got out of the city after awhile, and began to check out some of the farm lands. He came up to a farm which he saw was loaded with sheep. His animal instincts took over. Fluey couldn't use his human instincts, since his human form had sort of blacked out. He was all animal now. He crawled underneath the fence. One of the sheep woke up, and began to go completely crazy. The other sheep woke up as well, and they began running around the pen, bleating. Needless to say, Fluey was creating quite a ruckus. The owner of the farm, John Miller, came outside just then.

"What's going on out here?!" he shouted.

Mr. Miller ran out to the sheep pen, but he was a little too late for one of the sheep. Once Fluey saw him coming, he squeezed under the fence, and ran off. Mr. Miller saw him go, and he wasn't too pleased.

"A wolf," he said. "Oh wonderful. That's just great."

Mr. Miller inspected the sheep pen, and saw a tuft of fur stuck on the fence. He took it off, and inspected it.

"I've seen wolves before," he said. "But none of them were ever this black."

Mr. Miller took the piece of fur inside, and headed back to bed. Fluey, in the meantime, had settled on a patch of grass near the farm. He curled up and went to sleep, and staid there until morning. Imagine his surprise when morning broke, and the first thing he heard was the sound of a rooster crowing! Fluey, having turned back into a human the minute the moon went down, felt terrible. He sat up and held his hand to his head, wondering what it was exactly that happened. He figured it was some kind of crazy nightmare.

"Oh man," he groaned. "What a night. What a nightmare!"

Fluey then realized that he was outside, and furthermore, wearing absolutely nothing. At that moment, he knew what happened the night before wasn't a dream.

"Holy Mesopotamia!" he shouted. "I'll bet anything that gypsy fortune teller has something to do with this! I've got to call Dani! She'd know what to do!"

Fluey shot to his feet, and started towards the city, but realized something.

"Okay, first of all, I'd better find some clothes or else I'll get arrested for indecent exposure," he said.

Luckily, Fluey was close enough to the farm, and he noticed the clothesline. There were towels hanging from it. No one was around, so Fluey snuck over as fast as he could, yanked a towel off the clothesline, and tied it around his waist, making sure the knot would hold. Then he ran for the city and the nearest payphone. Lucky for him, he managed to find some loose change on the sidewalk. He jammed the coins into the phone and dialed his girlfriend's phone number. It was about five thirty in the morning, and Danalleah had been asleep when the phone woke her up.

"Hello?" she asked, sounding groggy.

"Dani, it's me," Fluey said.

"Fluey? Do you even know what time it is?"

"I know it's early and I'm sorry I woke you up, but I've got a bit of a problem."

"What kind of problem?"

"Well, it's like this."

Fluey told Danalleah everything that had happened the night before, including the liquid that had been forced down his throat.

"I'm almost certain the person who grabbed me last night was that gypsy fortune teller," he said. "That junk she gave me must have been some kind of potion. Seriously, Dani. I heard howling outside last night, I opened the window to take a look around, and next thing I know I'm growing fur and fangs!"

"Sounds a little farfetched to me. Are you sure?"

"Dani, I woke up outside the farm this morning. I'm telling you this is for real! That gypsy put a curse on me. You _have_ to help me!"

"I don't know, Fluey . . . ."

"I am _not_ kidding, Danalleah!"

"Okay, where are you?"

Fluey looked out of the phone booth, and told Danalleah the street corner he was on. Danalleah nodded.

"Okay," she said. "Stay there. I'll come get you."

Danalleah got up, and got dressed. Then she grabbed her flying broom and was and started to leave. Multi's girlfriend, Shawn, heard her, and got up to find her dressed and heading out the door.

"Where are you going this early?" she asked.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Danalleah said, and left.

It took Danalleah awhile, but she arrived at the phone booth on the corner. She got off her broom and knocked.

"What happened to your clothes?" she asked.

"Beats me," Fluey said. "Come on, get me back to my aunt's house before she finds out I'm gone!"

Both Danalleah and Fluey jumped on Danalleah's broom and took off. Once they got there, Fluey climbed into the window.

"Thanks, Dani," he said. "I owe you one."

"It's okay," Danalleah said. "I'm going to go over to Winnie's. Maybe she'll have a book or something that'll help us."

By Winnie, Danalleah meant Winsome Witch, who was teaching the teenage witch magic. Danalleah then left, and Fluey began getting dressed. He knew he wasn't going to be going back to sleep, that was for sure! A couple of hours later, he called Coiley on the phone. He figured he'd might as well tell his friends about this little "problem."

"Hi, Coiley, it's me," he said. "Can you pick up Multi, and swing by here? I've got a problem."

"Sure," Coiley said. "I'll be over in no time."


	3. Moonlight Madness

Moments later, Coiley, Multi, and Skittles arrived at Fluey's house in the Impossi-Mobile. Fluey climbed in, and suggested they go to Martha's Diner (which was owned by Coiley's mother) for some breakfast. Coiley nodded, but he knew his mother wouldn't be there just yet. The diner was open twenty-four hours, but Martha usually started her shift at eight thirty and ended it around five.

"So what's this problem, Fluey?" Multi asked, as the boys climbed into a booth in the back corner of the diner.

"It's kind of unbelievable," Fluey said. "Something right out of the late-late-late-late-late-late-late show. I think I might have found out what that junk was that I drank at the carnival."

"What was it?" Multi asked.

"I think it was some kind of potion," Fluey said. "And I think it was the gypsy fortune teller that gave it to me. She was pretty ticked off when I found out that box of hers had cocaine in it."

"So . . . . ." Coiley said. "Do you know what kind of potion it was?"

"Not off hand," Fluey said. "I _do_ know it turned me into a wolf last night."

"A werewolf?" Multi asked.

"No," Fluey said. "A regular wolf."

"You're right, Fluey," Coiley said. "It _does_ sound like something out of the late-late-late-late-late-late-late show!"

"So what happened, anyway?" Multi asked.

"I'm not exactly sure," Fluey said. "It was like the animal in me began to take over, and the person was shut out the minute I morphed. All I know is that I morphed into a wolf at my house, and I woke up this morning at a farm."

"What farm where you at?" Coiley asked.

"I don't know! I don't remember much of what happened! All I know is that I morphed the minute I saw the moon, and woke up in near a farm!"

Coiley and Multi glanced at each other. They weren't exactly sure what to say at this point. However, they _did_ decide _not_ to tell Big D about this. He'd never believe it anyway. The boys finished their breakfast, and went to Headquarters to check in. They found a man in Big D's office, talking to the chief.

"Phyllis, what's going on in there?" Coiley asked Big D's secretary.

"A friend of the chief's came by this morning," Phyllis said. "His name's John Miller. He's got a farm outside of Megatropolis, and last night he found a wolf in his yard, spooking his sheep."

"Is he sure it was a wolf?" Multi asked.

"Positive," Mr. Miller said, as he and Big D left the office. He pulled the tuft of fur out of his pocket and handed it to Multi. "He left this on the fence. Tell me what you make of it."

"Well, off-hand, I'd say it was wolf fur," Multi said, looking at the tuft.

"You know it's strange," Mr. Miller said, suddenly looking at Fluey. "But that piece of fur is the exact same black color as this kid's hair. I've seen black wolves before, but never _that_ black!"

"Uhhh . . . . ." Fluey stammered, a little nervously.

"You have a point there," Multi said. "Must be a new breed or something."

"Yes, I suppose that's true."

"I'll have this analyzed immediately, John," Big D said. "This isn't the sort of thing we normally do here, but since you're one of my friends . . . ."

"Thanks," Mr. Miller said. "I appreciate it!"

Mr. Miller left. The boys decided to go out to his farm and get some more information. Once they got to the farm, Coiley noticed all the sheep were cowering in the corner, bleating nervously. Mr. Miller saw them, and walked over to them.

"Aren't you the boys I saw at the Secret Security Headquarters building?" he asked.

"That's us," Multi said. "We were wondering if you'd answer a couple of questions about this wolf."

"Fine with me," Mr. Miller said. "You guys investigating the case?"

"You might say that," Fluey said. "I don't know if I would."

"You say you saw this wolf last night," Coiley said. "What did it look like?"

"Well, like I said, it was black," Mr. Miller said. "Not to mention big. It was a pretty good sized wolf. Don't think I've ever seen one that big before, either. I didn't get all that good a look at him, though. All I saw was a wolf chasing after my sheep. I also saw it kill one of 'em."

"You're positive about that," Multi said.

"Yep."

"That's all we needed to know," Coiley said. "Thanks a lot, Mr. Miller. And don't worry about that wolf. We'll do what we can to keep him away from your sheep."

"Thank you very much," Mr. Miller said. "But won't that wolf just attack you if you try to catch it?"

"I don't know, exactly, but I do know wolves rarely attack humans," Multi said. "It depends."

Mr. Miller nodded. The Impossibles headed back to the city, and to the diner.

"Next time there's a full moon, you're not going out at night," Coiley said.

"How do you know this only happens during a full moon?" Fluey asked.

"I've seen every werewolf picture ever made. It's always during the full moon, and last night was a full moon. We aren't scheduled for another one for quite some time."

"I don't know, Coiley . . . ."

"What are you so worried about? It's only during the full moon, so there's nothing to worry about!"

Fluey wasn't so sure. Coiley seemed confident enough, but Fluey was still uneasy about the entire thing. At any rate, they went back to HQ for the moment. Shawn and FG met up with them and wanted to know how the carnival was.

"Rotten," Fluey said. "The food was lousy, the attractions were lousy, and we ended up busting a bank robber and a drug pusher all in the same night."

"Sounds like fun," FG said, sarcastically.

Fluey shrugged. He didn't want to tell Shawn and FG about this supposed curse. It would only worry them, since they wouldn't know what to do about it. He only told Danalleah because she was a witch, and curses and spells and werewolves were right up her alley.

Midnight rolled around, and Fluey found he couldn't get to sleep again. He got up, and snuck out of the room. He had the icky feeling that he was going to turn into a wolf again, and this time, he wanted to be out of the house. He ran down the stairs, and out the door. The minute he stepped outside, he began to morph, although the moon wasn't completely full. Once more, he began tearing his clothes to shreds, howling, that sort of thing. He ran for the woods, and into another farm. It wasn't the Millers, though. This farm belong to an older man, Cliff Jorgensen. The cows and sheep were going crazy the minute they saw Fluey. The noise woke up Mrs. Jorgensen, who alerted her husband.

"Cliff, there's a wolf out there!" she shouted. "Get your shotgun!"

"All right, all right," Mr. Jorgensen said, and he got up. He went down the stairs and retrieved a gun from the mantle. Then he walked outside, and over to the barn. He saw Fluey, and aimed his gun. He fired, but missed by a mile. Fluey was taken by surprise, and darted back towards the city.

As Fluey was running for the city, the sky got cloudy and blocked the moon. Once that happened, Fluey morphed back into human form, much to his relief. He nearly fell flat on his face, though.

"Good grief," he groaned, leaning up. "Well, now I know I don't change by the light of a full moon. I change by the light of _any_ moon!"

The clouds cleared again, and once one little piece of the moon was visible, Fluey started to morph, and this time, Mr. Jorgensen witnessed the change right there! Of course, he thought he was just seeing things.

"I need to get more sleep," he said. "Either that or wear my glasses every time I go out."

Mr. Jorgensen gave up the wolf hunt, and went back to bed. Fluey ran back to his house, and sat on the front stoop. The clouds covered the moon then, and Fluey morphed back to normal. Quickly, he gathered up his shredded clothes, and dashed inside the house as fast as he could. Once he was inside, he crept up the stairs, put some clothes on, and stashed the torn ones in the closet. Then he climbed back into bed, and closed his eyes. It was like he never left. He stayed awake the rest of the night. The entire ordeal was starting to creep him out.


	4. On the Prowl

The next morning, Fluey headed into HQ, groggy and disheveled. Multi cast him a worried glance.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Anyone around?" Fluey asked. He could barely see straight. Coiley looked around.

"No," he said.

"It happened again last night," Fluey said.

"But there wasn't a full moon last night," Coiley said.

"I know," Fluey said. "I change when I'm in any moonlight. Lucky for me last night was cloudy, and I managed to get home before I did any damage."

"Okay, I think we'd better go find that fortune teller and get her to lift this curse."

The boys left HQ, and headed to the fairgrounds, where that carnival was. To their complete shock, they had packed up and moved on.

"Well, there goes that idea," Coiley sighed.

"I don't think she'd have hung around anyway," Fluey said. "Not after we found all her drugs."

"So now what do we do?" Multi asked.

"I don't know," Coiley said.

The boys went back to HQ, and found Danalleah there. She had a nervous look on her face.

"Did you find out anything?" Fluey asked her.

"Yes," Danalleah said. "I found out that this is going to take awhile to find the cure for this curse. Winnie's been helping me, but she said it's too dangerous for either of us to lift it with our magic, because mixing magic can be extremely dangerous."

"Great," Fluey groaned.

"I'll keep looking," Danalleah said, hugging the dark-haired Impossible close. "I won't stop until I find out how to lift this curse."

"Whatever it takes," Fluey said.

The next day at HQ, the boys were hanging out in Big D's office, running a new song by Phyllis. As they were rehearsing, the phone rang. Phyllis immediately picked it up.

"Secret Security Headquarters," she said. "Oh, Mr. Miller. What's wrong? What?! Again last night? And the Jorgensen's farm, _and_ the MacDonald's farm? Any casualties? I see. Yeah. Okay. I'll let him know."

"What's wrong, Phyllis?" Multi asked.

"Apparently, a wolf attacked a bunch of farms last night around three thirty in the morning," Phyllis said.

"What?" Multi asked.

"Oh, you're kidding!" Coiley shouted.

Fluey didn't say anything. He looked awful guilty about something, though. Phyllis then alerted Big D about the situation, and he sent the Impossibles down to investigate this. Once they reached the Millers' farm, Fluey stayed in the car, and Multi and Coiley climbed out.

"Don't move," Multi told him. "We've got some questions for you."

Fluey nodded. He didn't know what to say. Multi and Coiley approached Mr. Miller, who was standing by his fence.

"Did you happen to see the wolf?" Coiley asked.

"Yes," Mr. Miller said. "Same as the other night. Same black fur."

"Good grief. Mr. Miller I can't explain this, I really can't."

"I know. But I have to tell you, Mr. Jorgensen and Mr. MacDonald aren't too pleased. This wolf is a menace!"

"Look, we can handle it if you'll just give us some time."

"I'll give you three days!" a voice shouted.

"I'll give them three hours!" another yelled. Mr. Miller and the two Impossibles turned around to see two more farmers, Cliff Jorgensen, and Lloyd MacDonald.

"These the lads who are so interested in that wolf?" Mr. MacDonald asked. He was definitely Scottish. "What could they be interested in that thing fer?"

"You two know anything about this wolf?" Mr. Jorgensen asked, somewhat annoyed.

"We know a lot about this wolf," Coiley said. "We just can't tell you much about it."

"You keep him as a pet?" Mr. Jorgensen asked. "Because if he gets into my yard again, I'll shoot him!"

"No!" Multi shouted. "You can't do that!"

"Cliff, please!" Mr. Miller shouted. "I know it's not easy for all of you to have a wolf running around, but losing your temper about it won't do anything."

"We'll give this wolf one more chance, laddie," Mr. MacDonald said to Multi. "But if he gets into my sheep pen again, I dinnae think he'll be so lucky."

"I get the drift," Coiley said. "But I don't think you can just haul off and shoot it."

"Then we'll take this to City Hall," Mr. Jorgensen said. "You'd better hope that wolf doesn't get into my farm again!"

Mr. MacDonald nodded in agreement, and walked off. Multi and Coiley turned to Mr. Miller.

"I'm really sorry," Multi said. "But you should know that this wolf doesn't mean any harm whatsoever. He's just not aware of what he's doing."

"How do you know that?" Mr. Miller asked.

"Well . . . . . we just do."

"Well, whatever you can do. But I'm with Cliff and Lloyd. If that wolf gets into my yard again, I'm taking drastic measures and bringing this up with City Hall."

"All right."

The two Imposibles went back to the Impossi-Mobile. Fluey was biting his lower lip, ready to be grilled.

"You want to tell us what happened?" Multi asked, calmly.

"I have no idea," Fluey said. "I guess I must've changed while I was sleeping. I don't really remember what happened. Maybe I was sleep stalking or something."

"Yeah, you probably were," Coiley said. "Fluey, you have to stay inside at night. It's the only way I can keep you out of trouble until Danalleah finds the fortune teller."

Fluey sighed, and nodded. It was about all he could do. Multi heaved a sigh, and put his hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Hey," he said. "Don't worry. I'm sure everything's gonna be all right."

"I really hope so, Multi," Fluey sighed. He had to crack this case if it killed him, and it probably would kill him, especially if Mr. Jorgensen had anything to do with it.

That night was sheer agony. Fluey couldn't take it much longer.

"Guys, I gotta get out," he said. "We've been cooped up in here all day."

"Well, it's the middle of the night," Multi said. "We haven't heard anything from Danalleah yet."

"Multi, please! I gotta get out of here before I go stir crazy!"

Multi glanced out the window, and saw that it was overcast outside. Clouds blocked the moon entirely.

"I guess it's okay as long as it's overcast," Multi said.

"Yeah, the weatherman said it was going to be cloudy all night," Coiley said.

Upon hearing that, Fluey opened the door, and practically ran out. Multi and Coiley couldn't blame him. They'd be going nuts too if they inside doing nothing all day. Then they followed after him, just in case something should happen. And something did happen. The clouds were beginning to clear up.

"What weatherman said it was going to be overcast all night, Coiley?" Multi asked.

"The one on KPUT," Coiley said.

"Figures. They're _always _wrong about the weather! Come on. We'd better get to Mr. Miller's before Mr. Jorgensen finds Fluey with his shotgun."

"As far as I know, Mr. Miller's got a shotgun as well. We gotta split!"

"We'll take the Impossi-Jet!"

Multi and Coiley grabbed their transformers, and activated them, changing into their superhero identities, just in case. Then, they ran outside, and climbed into the Impossi-Mobile, converted to Impossi-Jet, and took off like a shot. They managed to reach the Millers' farm in under twenty minutes, which turned out to be a good thing. There was Fluey in wolf form, stalking the sheep pen. Multi jumped out of the jet, and ran towards Fluey. Coiley landed and followed.

"Okay, Fluey, don't do anything hasty," he said.

Fluey's response was a low growl, and he bore his fangs at Multi and Coiley. Then he turned back to the sheep. Multi and Coiley didn't know what to do.

The back door opened then, and out ran Mr. Miller, holding a rifle. He saw Fluey and aimed. Multi and Coiley really had to act fast.

"Mr. Miller, don't!" Coiley shouted, springing over to the farmer. He tackled Mr. Miller, which caused the rifle to fire. The bullet shot into the air. Multi heaved a sigh of relief. Fluey stopped in his tracks and stared at Coiley and Mr. Miller.

"I told you I was giving that wolf only one more chance!" Mr. Miller shouted. "That thing is a menace!"

"That thing is not a menace!" Coiley shouted. "He's our best friend!"

"You're crazy!"

"Mr. Miller, I know this sounds like something out of a horror movie, but that's really our friend Fluey."

"But how can that be possible? What is he, a werewolf?"

"No, he's not a werewolf. He got a curse placed on him by a carnival fortune teller. Every time he gets into the moonlight, he'll turn into a wolf."

"I find that hard to believe."

"Oh yeah? Watch this."

Coiley pointed skyward. Thick clouds covered the moon. The minute they were covered, Fluey morphed back into human form. He stood up, looked at Coiley and Multi, and then collapsed. Multi ran over to him, and pulled him into a sitting position.

"You see?" Coiley asked.

"I can't believe it," Mr. Miller said.

"I don't think he knows what he's doing when he's a wolf, Mr. Miller," Multi said.

"Yes, I believe that's understandable," Mr. Miller said. "And after seeing it with my own eyes, I believe it's credible. All right. Should I tell this to Mr. Jorgensen and Mr. MacDonald?"

"NO!" Multi and Coiley screamed in unison. Fluey cringed, and started to clean out his ear.

"Mr. Miller, you can't breathe a word of this to anyone," Coiley said. "Knowing Mr. Jorgensen, he might try something crazy like get silver bullets or something."

"Yeah, that's the only way to kill a werewolf, and Fluey's no werewolf," Multi said.

"We're in the process of trying to find a cure," Coiley continued. "If we can find it, we can fix this mess, but please just don't tell anyone."

"All right," Mr. Miller said. "My lips are sealed."

"Thanks," Coiley said. He and Multi pulled Fluey to his feet, and guided him to the Impossi-Jet.

"That was easy," Coiley said. "Can we trust him, though?"

"Mr. Miller? Yeah, I think so," Multi said. "We can trust him. It's Jorgensen I don't trust."

"What makes you say that?"

"I don't know. I get the feeling he's gonna find out about this."

Coiley shrugged, and started up the Impossi-Mobile. Of course, Multi had a good reason to get that feeling. As it turned out, Mr. Jorgensen saw Fluey head over to Mr. Miller's when he was a wolf, and followed him with the shotgun. He wanted to shoot, but then Multi and Coiley showed up on the scene. He heard the entire conversation and was on the phone with Mr. MacDonald.

"No kidding, Lloyd," he said. "A real life werewolf! I saw him turn into a human myself!"

"Are ye sure?" Mr. MacDonald asked. "I thought the whole story of werewolves was in the movies!"

"I'm dead serious. Those two kids asked John Miller to keep it a secret. I knew John would cooperate with those kids. He's too soft."

"Well, we cannae let this werewolf on our farms again. What do ye suggest we do?"

"Call as many farmers in the area as you can. Set traps, get some silver bullets, and the next time that werewolf comes around, shoot it."

"Yer a bit trigger happy, aren't ye?"

"Spread the word."

"Aye, will do."

Mr. Jorgensen hung up the phone and began calling the other farmers in the area. Mr. MacDonald did the same. Pretty soon, the entire farming industry in the area knew of the werewolf, and they were about to call the government in on it.


	5. The Shot Heard Round the World

The Impossibles were cruising around the next day, after receiving an update from Danalleah. Still nothing, but she was trying. It was almost nightfall, and the boys knew they had to get inside so Fluey wouldn't be in the path of the moonlight. They were glad it was a bit overcast, though.

"I hope that lasts longer than it did last night," Coiley said.

The boys went to Coiley's house after that, and just sort of hung out.

"I tell ya, fellas, I'm gonna flip out if I have to stay cooped up in here," Fluey said.

"We're not taking chances," Coiley said.

"I don't care," Fluey said. "I'm going out there and I'm going to find that fortune teller if it's the last thing I do! Besides, it's so overcast out there now, anyway!"

And with that, Fluey walked out the door. Multi and Coiley followed him, but he was already gone. And what was worse, the clouds were beginning to clear. Skittles began whimpering.

"Uh oh, Coiley," Multi said. "We'd better find Fluey and fast!"

"Right," Coiley said. "To the Impossi-Mobile!"

Multi and Coiley dashed to the Impossi-Mobile off like a shot to the farm area. To their surprise, Fluey wasn't around.

"Well, he's not here," Multi said.

"Hold it, Multi," Coiley said, climbing out of the car. "Check out this barbed wire fence. We've got a piece of wolf hair here."

"Fluey's?"

"You bet. Come on. I think I know where he might have headed from here."

Coiley jumped back into the Impossi-Mobile and Multi started it up. They decided to head for the woods, since they were nearby. And besides, Coiley heard some howling.

Fluey, in the meantime, was in full wolf form, prowling around the woods. Unknown to him, Mr. Jorgensen, and Mr. MacDonald had tracked him down.

"Are ye sure that's the werewolf?" Mr. MacDonald asked.

"Sure I'm sure," Mr. Jorgensen said. "The werewolf has really black fur, and is really aggressive."

"I hope ye brought yer shotgun, Cliff. I trust ye will do all the shooting. I dinnae want the ASPCA on me back."

"Don't worry about a thing, Lloyd. If the ASPCA gets on anyone's back, it'll be mine."

A few other farmers were with Mr. Jorgensen and Mr. MacDonald. One of them had set up a bear trap. Another had a rope in his hands, ready to throw it around any animal's neck. Fluey was prowling around, sniffing the ground in true wolf fashion, not really paying much attention to where he was going. He should have been paying attention. He stepped right into the bear trap, and it snapped shut on his leg. He let out a very long, and loud howl.

"That's got him," the farmer who set the trap said.

"I'll get him now," another farmer said. He threw his rope cowboy style and lassoed Fluey around the neck. Then he tightened the loop and began to pull it. Fluey was unamused. He began growling and howling again.

"Better shoot, Cliff," the farmer said. "I can't hold him long!"

"Right," Mr. Jorgensen said, raising his gun. He took careful aim, and fired.

BANG!

"What was that?" Multi asked, rolling along the dirt path.

"Sounded like a gun shot!" Coiley shouted, panicking a little. "It came from that direction! Let's go!"

Multi turned the car around, and sped in the direction Coiley was pointing. Mr. Jorgensen blew the smoke off his gun, and turned towards the other farmers.

"I think that about does it," he said. "Let's go."

The farmers proceeded to leave. Mr. Jorgensen had really let Fluey have it with that gun. The bullet hit him not quite in the back, somewhat close to his front leg. Fluey had fallen, rope still around his neck, leg still caught in the bear trap. Just his luck, the sky clouded over then, and Fluey morphed back into human form. Coiley and Multi pulled the Impossi-Mobile into a dense section of woods.

"The Impossi-Mobile can't go through here," Multi said. "And it's too dense to see anything in here if we covert to Impossi-Jet. We'll have to continue on foot."

"Right," Coiley said, and he pulled two flashlights out of the car. He handed one to Multi. "Let's go."

The two Impossibles turned on the flashlights and headed into the woods, letting Skittles nose do the leading. She suddenly barked and did her pointer thing (_poing!_)

"Atta girl, Skittles," Multi said, and he and Coiley ran in the direction Skittles was indicating. They saw Fluey right away.

"Hollerin' hi-fi's!" Multi shouted. "What happened?!"

"Give me a hand with this bear trap," Coiley said. "I'll open it, and you pull his foot out. Gently."

"Gotcha."

Coiley pulled open the bear trap, and strained to hold it open. Multi took hold of Fluey's foot and proceeded to pull it out of the trap. Fluey sort of tensed up and groaned then.

"Take it easy, Fluey," Multi said. "Okay, Coiley, got it."

Coiley let go of the bear trap, and it snapped closed, nearly taking off his fingers in the process. Then, he loosened the rope around Fluey's neck. There was a rope burn where the rope had been. Coiley just groaned and shook his head in disgust.

"Jorgensen probably had something to do with this," he said.

"Look at this," Multi replied. "All these scratches on his back. He must've been from crawling under that barbed wire."

"Yeah, and that's not all. Check this out by his shoulder here."

"What's that?"

"Offhand, I'd say it was a gunshot wound. I bet that's what we heard awhile ago."

"Well, what do we do now?"

"We've got to get him to HQ."

Coiley and Multi pulled Fluey into a sitting position, and put his arms around their shoulders. Then they lifted Fluey's legs, and proceeded to carry him to the Impossi-Mobile. Fluey let out a moan as he was being moved.

"I don't think this is a good idea," Multi said.

"We don't have a choice," Coiley said. "We've got to get him to Dr. Phelps!"

Coiley and Multi put Fluey into the back seat of the Impossi-Mobile, as carefully as they could, and then climbed into the car themselves. Multi started it up, and took off like a shot. The noise woke up a lot of farmers in the area. They weren't too happy, especially Mrs. Miller.

"John, what's that noise?" she asked.

"I'll check," Mr. Miller groaned, getting up. He looked out the window, and saw the Impossi-Mobile racing by.

"Well?" Mrs. Miller asked.

"It's nothing, Liz," Mr. Miller said. "Just some kids dragging."

"Darn those teenage drag racers."

Mr. Miller said nothing to his wife, walked down the stairs, and over to the phone in the living room. He wanted to call Cliff Jorgensen. He answered the phone pretty quickly.

"Cliff, it's John Miller," Mr. Miller said. "Just out of curiosity, was that wolf out this morning?"

"Oh yeah," Mr. Jorgensen said. "We got him though."

"What do you mean 'we'?"

"Oh, Lloyd, and Frank Peters, and Travis Andrews, and me. Travis set a bear trap, and Frank had this lasso . . . . heh, heh, yeah, that werewolf won't be bothering us anymore."

"Werewolf? How'd you know about that?"

"I heard you talking to those kids about it, and I saw him. Got me a silver bullet, and . . . ."

"Cliff, you are an idiot!"

Mr. Miller hung up the phone, immediately. He had to find the Impossibles ask them about this.

The Impossibles had just made it back to the city, and over to HQ. Lucky for them, it was early enough for Dr. Phelps to be there. Coiley stopped the car, and practically ran through the door. Multi was going to wait outside in the car with Fluey until Coiley got Dr. Phelps and the medical team out. As Coiley ran into the medical wing, he crashed into the front desk.

"Coiley, this hospital does have a speed limit," Dr. Phelps's receptionist, Pamela, said. "This is a thirty miles per hour zone."

"I think I just hit the desk at Mach two," Coiley groaned. Then he composed himself. "Where's Dr. Phelps?"

"Right here," Dr. Phelps said, coming over. "I think you came to me in time, Coiley. What with hitting that desk at Mach two, as you put it."

"You gotta come with me," Coiley said, catching his breath. "We've got a big problem."

"What's that?"

"We need a stretcher or something outside. Fluey's been shot!"

"_What_?!"

Dr. Phelps immediately dispatched the paramedic crew, and they raced downstairs and outside immediately with a gurney in tow. Once they reached the Impossi-Mobile, they put Fluey onto it, on his stomach. Then they brought him up to the infirmary immediately.

"Careful, Dr. Phelps," Multi said, as he followed the paramedic team into Dr. Phelps's operating room. "He seems to be in a _lot_ of pain!"

"I can imagine," Dr. Phelps said. "Hmm, let's see here . . . . looks pretty bad, boys. I may have to stitch up his ankle. That's a pretty bad looking cut there. Now as for his shoulder . . . . ."

Dr. Phelps tried to examine Fluey's shoulder a little more closely, but the minute he touched the wound slightly, Fluey flinched and moaned.

"No doubt about it, boys," Dr. Phelps said. "I'm gonna have to pull that bullet out."

"Do you need the anestethic, doc?" one of the other doctors asked.

"No, unfortunately, I have to do it without the anesthesia," Dr. Phelps said. "But get me some alcohol. You know the kind I mean. I hope you boys aren't squeamish. If you are, you'll have to leave."

"Well, we went inside Fluey's body before, and if that didn't phase us, nothing will," Coiley said.

Dr. Phelps nodded, and ordered everyone in the room to put on scrubs, and then he went to sterilized the instruments. Once everything was ready, Dr. Phelps began the procedure. He was glad Coiley and Multi were there. He needed them to hold Fluey down. He was practically screaming.

"Just relax, Fluey, it's all right," Dr. Phelps said. "I know it hurts, but it'll hurt even more if we don't take the bullet out."

The entire thing seemed to take forever. Dr. Phelps was doing his best trying to extract the bullet, but it wasn't easy, and it was making Coiley and Multi nervous.

"I hope it's not in there too deep," Coiley said.

"No, it isn't," Dr. Phelps said. "It's just a persistent little bugger."

"I hope you get it out soon, doc," Coiley said. "I'm on pins and needles here!"

"I'm doing the best I can."

It took about five minutes, but Dr. Phelps finally managed to pull the bullet out. Multi felt like a cement mixer had been lifted off his shoulders. Coiley breathed such a huge sigh of relief, it sounded like he had been holding his breath for that entire five minutes! Dr. Phelps did some stitching on Fluey's shoulder and his ankle, and bandaged them both.

"I wouldn't worry about the abrasions on his lower back," Dr. Phelps said, taking a needle out of his bag. "He's up to date with his vaccinations, but I'm going to give him tetanus shot, just in case."

Multi and Coiley nodded, and watched as Dr. Phelps stuck the needle into Fluey's arm, giving him the shot. Dr. Phelps then transported Fluey to a part of the infirmary the medical team referred to as the Recovery Room. Once Fluey was settled, Dr. Phelps left for the moment. Multi and Coiley just sat there, not really sure of what to do next. Finally, Coiley got up and started out.

"Where are you going?" Multi asked.

"I'm gonna find Mr. Miller and ask him about this," Coiley replied.

"I already told you we could trust him."

"Then how come this happened?"

"I don't know."

"That's why I want to ask him."

Coiley left, and Skittles went with him. Multi sighed. He just looked at Fluey, not sure what to do about him. Fluey groaned a little, and slowly opened his eyes.

"Multi?" he asked, in somewhat of a strangled voice.

"Yeah," Multi said. "You all right?"

"Barely. What happened?"

"Well, you probably morphed into a wolf again, and went out to wreak havoc, but ended up at the mercy of a couple of farmers, I guess. I don't know. Coiley, Skittles, and I got to you after you morphed back into a human and no one was around."

"Where _is_ Coiley, anyway?"

"He just left. He doesn't trust Mr. Miller, so he went to grill him. Skittles went with him."

"Oh."

"You'd better go back to sleep. In all honesty, Fluey, you don't look so good."

"I don't _feel_ so good. Everything hurts."

"Yeah, I'll bet."

Fluey closed his eyes and went back to sleep. Multi was beginning to get a little worried.


	6. The Nightmare Ends

Coiley pulled the Impossi-Mobile up to the Miller's farm. Mr. Miller had just come outside.

"I need to talk to you," Coiley said. "It concerns Fluey. I know it's gonna sound like I'm pointing fingers, but I want to know if you know anything about gunshots and bear traps last night."

"Oh that," Mr. Miller said. "I can explain. Jorgensen overheard us talking the other night about your friend being cursed, and he and MacDonald got together with some other farmers, and they set the bear traps, and what have you."

"Yeah, we figured Jorgensen had a hand in this."

"Really, I had no idea about this. I only asked him about it early this morning. About your friend, is he . . . ."

"Well, we got him to the HQ doctor. I think he's all right. Or at least he will be."

"That's good."

Coiley climbed into the Impossi-Mobile, and drove off. Of course, Mr. MacDonald was driving by on his tractor and he heard snippets of the conversation.

"What did the lad want, John?" he asked.

"Hi, Lloyd," Mr. Miller said. "Nothing much. Just wanted to know if I was with you and Cliff during that wolf hunt last night."

"It was Cliff's idea, not mine. Not our fault there's a werewolf out there."

"I know, but he isn't really a werewolf. He's just cursed, that's all, and the boys were trying to lift the curse."

"Too late fer that now. He's probably gone by now."

"That's how much you know, Lloyd. If you want to know the truth, your 'werewolf' is still alive."

"Ye've got to be pulling me leg!"

"I'm not. And if you don't want to get yourself into trouble, I wouldn't go after him again."

With that, Mr. Miller left. Mr. MacDonald climbed onto his tractor and drove back to his farm. He picked up the phone and called Mr. Jorgensen.

"The werewolf's still alive," he said. "Miller told me so."

"And I suppose we have those two kids to thank," Mr. Jorgensen said.

"Aye, I believe so."

"It's a conspiracy then. I'm calling in the government."

And he did. And the agency he called happened to be the SSHQ. Some agents made it out to the farm, just in time to see Coiley and Skittles go by.

"Follow him," Mr. Jorgensen said. "He's one of them."

"Are you sure about this?" one of the agents asked. "That's one of our men."

"Positive," Mr. Jorgensen said, nodding.

The agents shrugged, and got into their car. Then they followed Coiley over to HQ. He was just checking in, seeing how things were going.

"How's Fluey?" he asked.

"Well, that rope burn around his neck's got me worried, but other than that, I think he's okay," Multi said. He's been sleeping most of the time, anyway. I already know Dr. Phelps told him about Fluey being wounded, though, so he knows we're out of commission. He doesn't know what's been going on, though."

"What _are_ we going to tell the chief, anyway?"

"I guess we'll just have to cross that bridge when we come to it."

The boys came to that bridge sooner than they expected. The agents had driven up to the SSHQ and discussed the wolf situation with Big D.

"A _were_wolf?!" Big D shouted.

"Yes sir," one of the agents said. "The farmer we talked to said Agent Coil was a conspirator in this matter."

"I'm sure this is all a misunderstanding," Big D said, standing up. "Follow me, and we'll get to the bottom of this."

"I hope so, sir," the agent said.

Right before the group could leave, the head of the science department, Dr. Reginald "Reggie" Johnson, came into the office, looking quite nervous.

"Uhh, chief, we've analyzed the fur sample," he said.

"It took you long enough, Johnson," Big D said. "What's the analysis?"

"It's kind of hard to explain, really," Reggie said, rubbing the back of his head with his hand. "But . . . . . well, the sample was part wolf fur, and part human hair."

"Human hair?" Big D repeated. "That's impossible!"

Big D then realized what he just said and paused for a moment. Then he looked at Reggie square in the eye.

"Did you run the DNA tests on the sample?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," Reggie said. "And . . . . well, the test showed that the fur sample was a perfect match with Fluey's DNA."

That was all the chief needed to hear. Big D led the agents up to the infirmary. At the time, Multi was leaning over Fluey at the time, staring at the rope burn around his neck. Coiley just sat to the side, scratching Skittles behind her ears.

"Boys, I need to talk to you," Big D said.

"About what?" Multi asked.

"We were wondering about a werewolf conspiracy," one of the other agents said. "We got a tip saying you were involved in it."

"Just what exactly did you hear?" Coiley asked.

"We got calls from farmers saying that you didn't want them shooting at a black wolf," Big D replied. "Because this said wolf was a friend of yours? Would you mind explaining that?"

"Ummm . . . ." Coiley stammered. "Well, that is to say . . . . ."

"Well, chief," Multi said. "I'll tell you everything, but you're not going to believe it. First of all, we think that gypsy we busted for drug possession put a curse on Fluey, and since that night, whenever Fluey got into the moonlight, he'd turn into a wolf, and wreak havoc, but he really didn't know what in the world he was doing."

"I see."

"And Danalleah's been trying to find out how to take the curse off him, but then these farmers, Jorgensen and MacDonald, were a little steamed about this wolf, and then I told another farmer, Mr. Miller, about this curse. Jorgensen somehow found out, and tried to kill Fluey, but that didn't work out so well, and Fluey took quite a beating, see?"

Multi led the chief over to Fluey, and began pointing things out, from the barbed wire scratches to the rope burn on his neck.

"We're just figuring out what to do next," Multi said.

"I see," Big D said. "Do you honestly think that story is believable?"

"Not really, no."

"I'm afraid we're going to have to place you three under arrest."

"Under arrest?!" Coiley shouted. "But . . . . . but chief!"

"No buts!" Big D shouted.

Within minutes, Multi and Coiley were taken to the holding cells and locked in separate ones. Big D also confiscated their transformers. Two more agents came into the room, carrying Fluey. They were going to lock him in another cell.

"Don't put him on his back," Multi said. "He's been shot in the shoulder."

"I'm aware of it," Big D said. "I am also aware of the fact that he transform when he's in the moonlight, which is why we're moving him down here. I'm not taking chances."

"Can't you put us in the same cell?" Coiley asked.

"No," Big D said. "After this stunt, I don't trust the three of you."

Big D said nothing more, and walked off. Multi groaned, and sat down on the cot that was in his cell for a minute. Then he walked over to the other cell, and reached over, trying to get Fluey to wake up or something. It wasn't any use, he just couldn't reach in far enough to actually grab Fluey's shoulder and shake him until he woke up.

"Don't worry, Fluey," he said. "We'll get out of this. Somehow."

Fluey was still oblivious to everything, although an occasional moan or groan came out of his mouth every now and again. A few hours later, someone came into the room. It was Phyllis, who heard about the entire thing from Big D. She wasn't too thrilled about this, but she wasn't angry with the boys. She was angry with the chief!

"I can't believe threw you guys in here!" she shouted. "And I also can't believe he's siding with that psycho farmer!"

"Well, I can understand why he wanted Fluey in here," Coiley said. "But he thinks because we wouldn't let the farmers shoot Fluey, we conspiring to destroy the farming industry. Now how crazy is that?"

"Extremely crazy," Phyllis said. "How's Fluey?"

"Not well, I can tell you that," Multi said. "Last time he woke up was hours ago. He's in a lot of pain thanks to Jorgensen and his buddies."

"I'd like to take that rope that was around Fluey's neck, tie it around Mr. Jorgensen's neck, and just squeeze . . . . ."

"Phyllis, calm down before the chief throws you in here for taking part in the conspiracy."

"Sorry, Multi, but I can't help it. How long are you going to be in here?"

"I don't know."

Phyllis and the boys talked about the entire mess for awhile, then another agent told her she had to leave. Multi sighed and sat back down on his cot. Another hour went by, and two agents came down to the cells. They walked over to Fluey's, opened the door, and practically dragged him out.

"Where are you going?" Coiley asked, standing up.

"To make a positive ID," one agent said. "We want to make sure this is the werewolf Mr. Jorgensen saw."

"And then what?" Multi asked.

"We'll let Mr. Jorgensen do the rest," the second agent said.

Multi and Coiley had a feeling they knew what that meant. They had to get out of the cell and stop the madness before it was too late. The minute the agents left, Phyllis tore into the room and over to the cells. She had a set of keys and she unlocked the cells.

"You boys have to do something!" she shouted. "Big D's going to let Jorgensen shoot Fluey!"

"Rattling ricochets!" Coiley shouted.

"I can't believe the chief would do this," Multi said.

"Come on, boys," Phyllis said. "Let's get a move on!"

Multi and Coiley ran out of their cells, and practically flew outside. Phyllis was right behind him. Upstairs, in the meantime, Mr. Jorgensen had made the positive identification on Fluey.

"That's him," he said. "That's the werewolf all right."

"What do you want us to do with him?" Big D asked.

"Let me handle it," Mr. Jorgensen said. "There's only one way to take care of a werewolf, and that's to shoot it."

Big D gave a nod to the agents. They dragged Fluey out to the back of the building, and Mr. Jorgensen followed them. The two agents practically threw Fluey to the ground. Mr. Jorgensen raised his shotgun and aimed carefully. He was about to pull the trigger, when he was tackled, causing the gun to veer slightly to the right. The bullet hit the wall.

"What the?" Mr. Jorgensen asked.

"Don't you dare!" Coiley yelled.

"How'd they get out?" an agent asked.

"What do you think you're doing?!" Mr. Jorgensen asked, glaring at Coiley.

"We're not gonna let you shoot Fluey again!" Multi yelled, running over to Fluey. He pulled his friend into a sitting position, and tried to get him to wake up.

"Come on, Fluey, please!" he begged. "Don't quit on us now!"

"I don't care what it takes," Mr. Jorgensen said. "He's a werewolf, and I'm not gonna let him roam free!"

Mr. Jorgensen was about to pull the trigger again, when Coiley jumped and tackled him again.

_BANG!_

The gun fired, and the bullet soared into the air. Coiley tried to grab the gun, but Mr. Jorgensen wouldn't let go of it.

"Let go, you fool!" he shouted. "Or that werewolf will kill us all!"

"Multi, now's your chance!" Phyllis shouted. "Take Fluey and get out of here!"

"Right, Phyllis!" Multi shouted, and he was about to lift Fluey off the ground, but he was grabbed by two agents. Two more grabbed Coiley and held him back to. Mr. Jorgensen carefully aimed his gun, and . . . . .

_POW!_

Suddenly, Fluey shot to attention, with a scream. He looked around, and saw that he was in the SSHQ infirmary. Coiley, Multi, Big D, Phyllis, and Dr. Phelps were also in the room, staring at Fluey as if he had lost his mind. Fluey looked positively scared to death.

"Fluey, are you all right?" Phyllis asked.

"Yeah, that must've been some nightmare," Coiley said.

"Nightmare?" Fluey asked.

"It must have been a bad one," Dr. Phelps said. "You were moaning and groaning all night!"

"Nightmare," Fluey repeated. He put his hand to his forehead. "All that . . . . . it was just a nightmare?"

"And no wonder," Big D replied. "You have a nice little case of food poisoning."

"Food poisoning?" Fluey asked.

"Yes, food poisoning," Dr. Phelps said, nodding. "Don't worry, Fluey, it's nothing serious. You just ate an undercooked burger at the carnival last night."

"But . . . . but what about that stuff the gypsy forced down my throat?" Fluey asked.

"It _was_ a type of poison," Dr. Phelps said. "But thankfully, Coiley and Multi arrived on the scene before it could do any serious damage. The reaction the poison had with the undercooked burger actually induced vomiting, which got the poison out of your system."

"You were throwing up all night," Multi said. "We had to watch you in shifts since you were unconscious. We didn't want you to choke."

"You mean, there's no curse?" Fluey asked.

"Curse?" Big D asked.

"Yeah . . . . the stuff the gypsy gave me . . . ." Fluey said. "It . . . . . it turned me into a wolf. And Big D was siding with this farmer who wanted to shoot me!"

"I tell you, the stuff people dream about when they come down with fevers," Phyllis laughed, shaking her head.

"You've got to stop watching those late night horror movies, Fluey," Coiley said.

"Then the whole thing _was_ just a nightmare?" Fluey asked. He felt a little queasy then. "Oh man, I can't imagine what would happen if it all was real!"

"You'd better get some rest, Fluey," Dr. Phelps said. "It's been a very long night."

The others nodded and left the room. Multi and Coiley stayed behind for a minute or so. They looked over at Fluey and stood up.

"You gonna be okay?" Coiley asked.

"Yeah," Fluey said. "Now that I know there's no curse. That's a great relief."

"I'll bet," Multi said. "We'll see you later, Fluey."

"Bye, fellas."

Multi and Coiley left the room, and turned off the lights. Fluey looked at the clock. It was only eight in the morning, the morning after the carnival gig. Fluey laughed, closed his eyes, and went back to sleep. Not one werewolf haunted his dreams this time.

THE END


End file.
